Nors abruptly opened his eyes, greeted by the unchanged ceiling above. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, his breath still rapid, indicating he had just emerged from a nightmare.
Feeble light filtered through swaying curtains, casting flickering rays onto his bed. As he glanced to the adjacent bed, it remained empty, signaling that his sister Cecellia had risen earlier and departed without a trace.
Ignoring the lingering palpitations from his recent nightmare, he rose and made his way to the bathroom for his morning ablutions.
Nors and Cecellia had found themselves at the Norian Academy of Magic by chance when they were ten years old. They had since spent a decade within its ancient halls.
The Norian Academy stood as one of the oldest magical institutions in the world, with records tracing its existence back at least three thousand years.
The entire structure resembled a grand stone fortress, towering proudly above the surface of the lake. Its sturdy pillars stood like guardians, watching over the brilliance of the academy.
Adorned with ancient runes, the walls shimmered with mysterious lights, as if recounting the tales of its long history.
Every brick and tile of the building bore the weight of ages, every leaf whispered the wonders of magic. In the sunlight, the shadows cast upon the lake sparkled, exuding a solemn yet mystical aura.
The entire academy emanated an aura of mystery and antiquity, as if it were a witness to time itself, carrying countless stories and legends within its walls.
In addition to the basic facilities of the academy, there is also its own farm and fields, so it is a self-reliant academy.
"Good morning, Nors Starward."
Nors strolled along the pathways of the central garden, exchanging greetings with passing students.
"Good morning. Have you seen little Cel ?"
"Cel Starship? I think she headed in the direction of the main hall," a student pointed towards the central temple.
Nors pondered for a moment. It was probably Elder Yulong summoning her for assistance again. They were almost always together.
That annoying old man always loves to boss around my dear sister!
Nors couldn't help but feel indignant.
His gaze suddenly shifted to the golden archway just outside the academy, with a massive white orb suspended in its center. He couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary would emerge from it any moment.
People remained tight-lipped about the sudden appearance of the structure. After observing it for several days with no apparent changes, the elders dispatched patrols to monitor it and ceased further inquiries.
Yet, as Nors looked at the softly glowing white orb, an unsettling feeling welled up within him. He couldn't shake the sense of impending doom.
With a sigh, he shook his head. There was no point in worrying about things that hadn't happened yet.
He continued towards the direction of the central hall, intending to find his sister, but was blocked by a young boy.
The newcomer was slender, with tousled chestnut hair and freckles adorning his face. He gripped a novice sword in trembling hands, his nervousness palpable.
Nors immediately grew impatient.
"Out with it. Who are you again? I recall the protocol for pursuing my sister involves defeating me, doesn't it? At the very least, you ought to be more handsome than me," Nors exclaimed loudly, eyeing the boy disdainfully.
Hmm, another one? How many fools are there?
"What's your name, anyway? If memory serves, the tradition for courting my sister involves besting me, doesn't it? You'll need to do better than that," he sneered, giving the boy a thorough once-over.
Goodness, he's ugly and yet thinks so highly of himself. And to think he's just a fresh-faced newbie? Wanting to court little Cel? Is he out of his mind?
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Nors found himself growing increasingly irritated.
"Enough with the chatter. If you can land a single blow on me, I might consider giving you a chance," Nors declared, feeling his temper rising.
The young boy felt his anger boiling over. Everyone said Nors was a genteel and well-mannered young man, yet today, he was dripping with venom. How could the goddess have such a controlling brother?
Underestimating me, are you?
With a flick of his wrist, the boy conjured a sword from thin air and charged at Nors with the swiftness of the wind.
YOU ARE READING
Oracle's Name
General Fiction"Cecellia and Nors grew up in the Norian Magic Academy from a young age and developed into exceptionally skilled mages. However, during a promotion ceremony, they were suddenly attacked by a group of unidentified individuals. These assailants wielde...
